The Trouble With Ink: A Short Story
by Salkiethia
Summary: AU: Some pens, a bit of ink and a shower. How'd I manage to keep this rated K ? Prideship if you squint.


**Warning: **Prideship if you squint.  
**Disclaimer: **YGO is not mine. I make no money of fanficcing this.**  
****Dedication: **To kamiyashi.

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**The Trouble with Ink: A Short Story**

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Kaiba Seto was a billionaire, and a very well-off one too, if sources could be believed. He lived in a house that the people of his city – he called it "his city" you see, and hardly anone ever disagreed with the title – called The Mansion for reason which will soon become apparent. Kaiba Seto kept a house that was at least large enough to hold ten families with room to rattle, and twenty could probably fit without overmuch trouble. He also had gardens and lawns for The Mansion, and people who tended both gardens and lawns at all hours of the day. The Mansion, or so it was said, was the best place to live in Domino, but regrettably, someone had not informed Kaiba Seto of this face, and so, living in The Mansion, day after day, he grew lonely.

Now, when normal people are lonely, they will call up a friend and set up a date to get together or chat about the little nothing of life for hours on end. However, when one is the billionaire of a city such as Domino, it is unfortunate to say that in general, one has no friends to cal up.

Therefore, when Kaiba Seto was tired of feeling lonely, he began a search for a way to remove this feeling from his life. His first though was obviously that of companionship, so he bought a Great Dane puppy, named him Mokuba and lived in relative contentment for the next few months.

Kaiba Seto often came home from work every day to a slobbering, excited puppy (and those times when Mokuba wasn't slobbering and excited usually meant a smelly mess was hidden somewhere in the house). Kaiba Seto told Mokuba a great deal about work, and Mokuba usually listened, but, being a dog, he could never answer back.

At first Kaiba Seto didn't mind, because it was nice to say something to someone and not get a response other than puppy smiles. Eventually though, the novelty wore off, and Kaiba Seto began to wish for more than just his Great Dane's unbridled enthusiasm.

For a few weeks, Kaiba Seto considered buying a cat, but the breeders all assured him that none of _their_ cats would get along well with a dog at all, and since Kaiba Seto was hardly going to get rid of Mokuba, the whole plan went out the window entirely.

It happened about this time that there was to be a festival of sorts in Domino. When one says "festival," of course most people imagine Ferris wheels, pony rides and perhaps a clown or two. However this particular festival had nothing of the sort. Instead of a Ferris wheel, there were great tables set up in a circle, with space enough for people to work between them. Instead of pony rides, there were boxes, piled on the tables, under the tables, beside the tables, wrapped in plastic and in paper. And instead of clowns, there were people.

Because, friend, this was not just any run-of-the-mill festival to be happening in Domino city. No, instead it was something much more magnificent, more spectacular by far!

It was a pen festival.

Kaiba Seto, whilst reading the early morning newspaper – there was quite a nasty tale of a fight breaking out over whom exactly had whom a hand of poker, and while this story has no bearing on present events, it _did_ captivate Kaiba Seto's attention – when he came across an ad for the pen festival. The festival was, in its own words "A Way 2 sea N bee seen!" (The poor author of the ad actually failed to pass fourth grade, hence his horrid grammar, but again this that particular tale has no effect upon the story I am telling.)

Kaiba Seto – as was his habit – marked down the page by turning the corner first this way, then that until the weakened seam ripped and a corner of the paper came off in his hand. Then Kaiba Seto proceeded to finish reading the paper, took Mokuba for a walk and finally retired to his study whereupon he promptly forgot any mentions of pens or festivals.

At least, Kaiba Seto forgot until it was time for Mokuba's nighttime walk and dinner. The Great Dane – who had by this time of course grown into his size and had a bad habit of pulling at the leash on walks – was curled up on Kaiba Seto's favorite chair, reading the newspaper.

While reading is not a usual canine activity, Kaiba Seto had come to the conclusion that Mokuba was not a usual canine. Reading was an endearing trait, and it so happened that when Kaiba Seto came into the room with Mokuba's leash, the Great Dane refused to move until Kaiba Seto had come close enough to read over his dog's shoulder.

"A Way 2 Sea N bee seen!" jumped out from the page, and Kaiba Seto felt lonely again. The date for the festival was the next week.

While Kaiba Seto walked Mokuba, he considered both sides of going to the festival (as any businessman would do.) When he and Mokuba returned to the house, Kaiba Seto was firm in the opinion that he would not be attending something as nonsensical as a festival for pens. When he made this announcement aloud, however, Mokuba tucked his tail between his legs and slunk off to sulk.

For the remainder of the night, Kaiba Seto was wracked with guilt, and by the next morning had given in. They would attend the pen festival.

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The morning of the festival dawned like something out of a poorly designed Hallmark card. The sky was blotchy with clouds and rain threatened. One look into Mokuba's big Great Dane eyes however, convinced Kaiba Seto that he absolutely _had_ to go to the festival, if only to keep Mokuba content.

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The festival itself was a strange affair, and Kaiba Seto was not altogether satisfied with the way it made him feel. Going for a walk with Mokuba was one thing. Going for a walk into a press of people brandishing multiple small object whilst screaming was quite another. (Though of course, if you know how anxiety amplifies tiny problems, you will realize that hardly anyone was screaming – aside from the toddler with a wet diaper – and the "brandished" objects were actually pens lying quite docilely in their respective cases.)

Kaiba Seto wandered from table to table, guided by Mokuba who seemed to have very particular ideas about what constituted a good pen. Mokuba, it seemed, was quite biased towards Limited Edition pens, and if he could have, might very well have trotted off with a case or two holding valuable Mont Blanc merchandise. Such might have been the outcome if not for the vigilant pen dealers who chased down all thieves, whether these would-be thieves were in possession of two legs or four.

After Mokuba had attempted to rob the same salesman four times, Kaiba Seto simply stopped trying to lead his dog away and struck up a conversation instead, allowing Mokuba to browse to his heart's content.

The conversation was quite a dull one, I'll have you know, which is why I haven't bothered to include it. Kaiba Seto spoke of business, and the pen dealer talked of the weather and the two of them enjoyed a rather agreeable time. After a while though, the two ran out of subjects to discuss – and the man's table was far out of the way so he hardly had any customers to speak of – so they sat in silence.

Finally the dealer broke the silence with the observation, "I see your dog seems rather fond of the Limited Edition Jules Verne."

"Is he?" Kaiba Seto looked down to see Mokuba lying with a pen box between his front paws. "I can't tell the difference, to be honest. They all look like pens to me."

This, oc course, is among the greatest of blasphemies to utter in the presence of a pen enthusiast, but to his credit, the dealer was not insulted. Instead, he began to explain the benefits of pen brands – and for the record, he was exceptionally fond of Pelikans – and the difference in nibs, ink and other nonsense we pen folk so adore.

Kaiba Seto listened intently, asking questions and getting answers. By the time the sun went down – and by that time a pen festival usually has concluded, as this one had, leaving only Kaiba Seto, the dealer and Mokuba in the square – Kaiba Seto felt it prudent to learn more about pens and so invited the dealer to dinner.

After some token fumbling, the dealer – whose name was Yami, though of course neither he nor Kaiba Seto had yet exchanged identities – agreed. Kaiba Seto also purchased that particular Jules Verne pen Mokuba was so fond of, and then the three of them returned to The Mansion.

Dinner passed as dinners will, and then Yami and Kaiba Seto – who had by this time given their names to one another – went to the living room to continue their discussion on pens while Mokuba and his Jules Verne went upstairs to bed.

Yami had brought along sample pens with him and used them to illustrate such concepts as changing a nib or removing a converter. _Then_ Yami withdrew a bottle of a purple-black substance and introduced it as ink.

"The ink goes in the pen so one may write with it," said Yami.

"I bloody well know that much," said Kaiba Seto, which was his way of saying, "Indeed! Please continue."

Yami demonstrated, and then let Kaiba Seto write with the pen. Yami offered Kaiba Seto something different next. "Would you like to try filling it?"

"If you can do it, I can," Kaiba Seto replied. (The actual translation would be closer to "I'm not quite sure I'll get it right; please help?")

Yami guided Kaiba Seto and Kaiba Seto did very well until it was time to put the converter back into the pen. (They were using a Visconti Van Gogh, which happened to be Yami's second favorite pen.) The converter cap twisted in Kaiba Seto's fingers as he tried to connect it to the nib. A rush of black ink sprayed over both he and Yami, and a good deal of the carpet as well. After staring in shocked silence, Kaiba finally said, "There's nothing for it. We'll have to shower clean," by which of course he actually meant what he had said.

Yami agreed and the two of them took it in turns to shower whilst the other waited in the hall. When Kaiba Seto had finished showering – as you know, all hosts give guests the first and best of everything – he and Yami went into the living room again, and did the best they could to clean up. The main problem was that Kaiba Seto's carpet was white, and Yami's ink, black.

After much dismay on Kaiba Seto's part, and some soothing words from Yami, Kaiba Seto decided that the carpet had seen better days anyway, and it might as well be torn up the next week.

"That's the trouble with ink," Yami commented. "It generally ends up where you don't want it. A shame."

"Quite a wasted," Kaiba Seto agreed. The stains didn't stop the two from spending the remainder of the evening talking, however. When first light dawned, they were still conversing, though Yami looked a touch sleepy-eyed.

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Now, for those of you who are uninformed, the biggest difficulty with pen festivals is that they do not ever last quite long enough. Yami and Kaiba Seto spent another day together (Mokuba continued perusing Limited Edition pens during that time) but when closing time rolled around, Yami was forced to beg off a repeat of the previous night.

"Pens," said he, "are my life's work, and this festival, my living." Yami needed to sell pens to get by, and Kaiba Seto could not fault him for that though he was genuinely regretful that Yami would be leaving.

"I shall be in town next year," Yami said before embracing Kaiba Seto and patting Mokuba fondly on the head.

Kaiba Seto and Mokuba stayed until closing time, and watched Yami leave with the rest of the festival.

On their way home, Kaiba Seto told Mokuba, "That's the trouble with pen dealers. They generally end up where you don't want them." In this case, far away.

But, Kaiba Seto reflected as he and Mokuba returned home, at least Yami was coming back next year.


End file.
